


Inspirational (Prototype)

by GuyBlackhand



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Jossed, M/M, rest in peace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8789134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuyBlackhand/pseuds/GuyBlackhand
Summary: For posterity's sake, the original version of 'Inspirational,' pre-Episode 10.
Summary: The last thing Victor expected was for Yuuri Katsuki, of all people, to inspire him. 
 
Warning: This version will not be finished; the actual WIP has been revised to incorporate current canon.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Inspirational](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8595772) by [GuyBlackhand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuyBlackhand/pseuds/GuyBlackhand). 



 

Prologue and Episode 1

The last thing Victor expected was for Yuuri Katsuki, of all people, to inspire him. Naturally he knew of Japan’s so-called ‘late bloomer’ before that video went viral, in the same way he knew who all his peers were. After all at the top level the professional figure skating world was very small: you knew who everyone was because you either trained with them, shared a coach with them, competed against them, or slept with them. Sometimes all of the above.

So yes, he knew who Katsuki was. They’d been in the same competitions a few times even before the GPF. Yakov had pointed him out in—well, it must have been his first international senior appearance. “There’s new blood on the ice today.”

“Oh?” Victor looked over, curious. Their eyes met but the kid promptly ducked his head. “Someone interesting?”

“Yuuri Katsuki, Japanese. He’s 20.”

“Ah.” That said it all, really. “He looks younger than that. He must have worked very hard.”

“Or got lucky. Or maybe he’s a genius discovered unfortunately late,” Yakov said with a shrug. “Today we’ll see which it is. How are you feeling about your quads?”

They walked off discussing his program and Victor quickly forgot about Yuuri Katsuki. He did remember the newcomer later that evening during his warm up though. Katsuki was on the ice and all the monitors were focused on his determined, youthful looking face. It was pretty clear he wasn’t a genius and, as Victor watched him flub a triple axel, not even that lucky.

A hard worker then, Victor had thought. Good for him.

Victor really had been horribly short-sighted back then.

For the next three years he’d see Yuuri Katsuki’s name in the line up every now and then, and each time he would blink at it with mild surprise and slowly growing admiration. Figure skating as a sport is a race against time, and time always won. Every year you got older and older while the competition only got younger, sharper, hungrier. Generally speaking if you don’t peak by your early 20s, you don’t peak at all. Victor took not a little pride in being one of the few exceptions to the rule, but most weren’t as fortunate as him, and if you had asked him to name someone who made their international senior debut at 20 and remained not only competitive but actually _relevant_ for more than one season, he wouldn’t have been able to give you a single one.

Except Yuuri Katsuki.

So when Victor attended Skate Canada as a VIP after winning Skate America and they happened to bump into each other just before Katsuki took to the ice for his free skate, he made a point to wish him good luck. Katsuki had seemed awkward and nervous, but later ended up scoring a personal best. Then later Victor learned he had won the silver in the NHK Trophy and had made the cut for the Final.

And then there was the Final.

To this day Victor regrets not recognizing him in that lobby. It had been a completely honest mistake. His hair was down, he was wearing those unflattering glasses that changed his face, and his energy was so dull that he didn’t look at all like the Yuuri Katsuki that Victor was familiar with. He wanted to apologize immediately when he realized that he had actually treated a fellow competitor with the same friendly condescension as he would a fan, but by then Katsuki was already halfway across the room and to bring further attention to him would have been unspeakably cruel.

If he had stayed, Victor would have told him what he was thinking: that he hoped to see him again at Worlds.

When Victor didn’t see Katsuki at all for the rest of that season, he surprised himself by being genuinely disappointed. It was frankly ridiculous; he had never even had an actual conversation with the man! Nevertheless, the disappointment was there, and it was another drop in the bucket of general dissatisfaction that Victor hadn’t noticed had filled up and up and up until it upended itself on his head while he sat at the post-Worlds press conference, with all the world watching, and he suddenly realized he was completely and utterly _bored out of his mind_.

He tried to shake it off by choreographing his program for the next season, by needling Yuri to work on his expression and not just his jumps, by annoying the hell out of Yakov, by having a fling with the latest prima ballerina from the St. Petersburg Ballet. The usual things. But nothing worked.

Until that video went viral.

_Looks like you have a fan! Lololol_ , Mila had tweeted him, with the video linked next to the laughing-crying face emoji.

The first time Victor saw that video it took his breath away.

Katsuki— _Yuuri_ —was wearing sweatpants, was clearly out of shape, wasn’t even skating to music and yet Victor had never seen that program, his program, performed with such heartrending beauty.

Seeing it was like having color put back into his world.

Yuuri had elevated his choreography to something that Victor himself had not been able to achieve.

Then he realized that no one, _no one else in the whole world_ , could see what he was seeing in Yuuri’s performance. They were so busy laughing and making fun of him and dismissing him out of hand that they were all blind to it. No one could see it. No one understood. No one _had_ understood, not even Victor, not until now.

Yuuri Katsuki was not a genius discovered unfortunately late.

Yuuri Katsuki was a genius who was never discovered at all.

The thought left him reeling, but though a hazy determination was already taking shape inside his mind, Victor had to be sure that he was right. He played the video a few more times, divorced himself from the giddiness of what this could mean—for him, for Yuuri, for the whole sport—and watched it with objective eyes, the eyes of a coach. But he wasn’t wrong. Somehow Yuuri Katsuki really had made it all the way to the Grand Prix Final without having tapped into a portion of his true potential.

Amazing.

Victor realized he had to move fast: it was only a matter of time before someone else saw what he did. He had to stake his claim now before that could happen. So he went on social media, announced he was sitting out the next season to coach Yuuri, took his dog to the vet to get him cleared for international travel, and hired people to start packing up his house. Somewhere in there Yakov screamed himself hoarse—which if anybody had asked Victor would have said made the whole decision worth it, haha—the entire professional skating world believed he was joking, and Yuuri Katsuki invaded his fantasies.

Yes, Victor thought that was unexpected too. It was one thing to be inspired professionally but quite something else for that to cross over and bleed into his personal mind space. Of course it happened often with younger skaters and even the more emotionally volatile older ones, but it hadn’t happened to Victor since… surely since he was a teenager. Yet here he was, fucking into his fist in the shower before he left for his flight to Japan and imagining that it was Yuuri’s mouth he was thrusting into. Yuuri would look just like he did in the video, Victor decided, his face a study in wistful devotion and yearning as his tongue fluttered around Victor’s cock. He would be clumsy and sweetly inexperienced and Victor would press his thumbs against pink lips stretched wide, would murmur soft words of praise, would watch Yuuri take in more of his length. Yuuri would look up right then and those expressive eyes would be pleading, imploring Victor to show just how much Yuuri pleased him and Victor would do it, would come right there inside his mouth and he’d feel Yuuri’s tongue working, trying to swallow it all down—

Victor grunted as he shot all over the tile, pressing his forehead against the cool surface as he waited for the aftershocks to subside. This was, of course, wildly inappropriate. However, he had also just come harder from a simple fantasy than he ever had with Irina the prima ballerina and Victor had accepted a long time ago that he was, at heart, an impulsive hedonist. So it turned out that he was going to Japan not just to take Yuuri Katsuki as his student, but also to take him as his lover.

Victor felt more excited now than he did when he stood center rink at the World Championships, gold medal in hand.

He wondered how long it would take to get Yuuri in his bed. A week? A day?

He couldn’t wait to find out.

-

Episode 2

Victor was so used to people wanting him that for Yuuri _not_ to came as a bit of a surprise. Yes, Yuuri wanted him as a coach, if the stars in his eyes were any indication, but Victor hadn’t detected a single flicker of desire in them when he stood in front him bare as the day he was born. Of course Victor wasn’t egotistical enough to think that he was so attractive every person in the world automatically wanted him, but figure skaters were by and large known for their flexibility both on the ice and off it, literally and metaphorically speaking. The odds were in his favor. And even if they weren’t, well, Victor was certain he could easily clear that hurdle if he put some effort into it.

You didn’t get to be the best in the world by not having a healthy amount of confidence in yourself, after all.

But maybe he came on a smidge too strong that first day.

Truth be told, he hadn’t been 100% sure how well it was going to go, this spur-of-the-moment life change of his. That Yuuri would accept him as his coach, that he would become a force that would shock the entire professional figure skating world, _that_ Victor took for granted, but on the matter of his other objective... Victor was old enough to know that reality quite often was a disappointment compared to fantasy. Victor figured the best case scenario was that Yuuri would amuse and delight him on the rink and in his bed for a year, but there was also the possibility that the reality of Yuuri wouldn’t live up to the fantasy of him. It wasn’t likely, because Victor in fact was very flexible, literally and metaphorically speaking, and he was easy going enough that he was able to have fun with a wide variety of partners and personalities. Nonetheless he would be the first to admit that while he knew something of Yuuri the skater, he knew next to nothing about Yuuri the person, and so there was a chance that he would actually find the man annoying, or even worse, boring.

Thankfully the worst did not come to pass and Yuuri was truly charming and adorable in every way.

Unfortunately the best case scenario did not come to pass either and Victor was consequently in the extremely unenviable position of discovering, for the first time in his entire life, what it was like to want someone who seemed oblivious to all his advances.

It would be one thing if Yuuri had been opposed, or even offended, by Victor happily smashing past all his professional and personal boundaries. Victor had experience in seducing the reluctant. But instead it was as if Yuuri was completely unaware of his body outside of his sport. There was no vanity in him, no ego, not even the ordinary pride people carried in being considered by others as physically, read: sexually, attractive.

Victor had to admit it was an extremely intriguing challenge, to discover how and why Yuuri came to be this way. And how he, Victor, could be the first to overcome all his barriers and see what lay beyond them.

He did always love a good challenge.

Victor was well aware that he got away with a lot by being thought of as an eccentric genius. Apparently this included being able to ask all sorts of invasive and personal questions as long as he attached the phrase ‘as your coach’ somewhere in there. If Yakov had ever asked Victor who his ex-lovers were Victor would have cheerfully told him to go to hell.

But it turned out that the Gordian knot that was Yuuri’s professional career _was_ all tangled up with his personal life. It seemed—and Victor was a bit amazed when he figured it out—that Yuuri had for some reason turned to _figure skating_ to hide himself from the world. A sport that many would argue existed only to marry pure athletic skill with the art of expressing oneself, and to look beautiful while doing it. Victor hadn’t thought it was possible to hide one’s true self as a professional figure skater but somehow Yuuri managed it, and did such a good job that even his family and closest friends had absolutely no idea what talent, what gift, he was hiding.

Though perhaps it shouldn’t be that surprising considering that Yuuri himself didn’t know just how good he was, how good he could be.

Minako Okukawa was for the most part an insightful person, but she was dead wrong about Yuuri’s talent. No amount of practice would propel an ordinary person to the Grand Prix Final, not without a fair bit of brilliance mixed in there.

Victor had pulled together all of Yuuri’s old performances, all the way back to his very first official junior competition, and the amount of professional frustration he felt at seeing Yuuri’s potential wasted on mediocre program after mediocre program had him snuggling Maccachin just to regain his equilibrium. Even Yuuri’s _coaches_ constantly underestimated him. Here and there were flashes of Yuuri’s genius, how in the world did they not see it? Had they all been blind?

Though Victor supposed he could forgive them since in the end they were instrumental in bringing Yuuri to this point, when the timing was right in both their lives and Victor could now take full advantage. Still, he had expected more from Yuuri’s last coach. Victor was sure to pay him back for mismanaging Yuuri one day.

In the meantime, he had to be careful not to mismanage Yuuri himself.

Victor had already decided that for his short program Yuuri will be performing Eros. He made the decision back when Yuuri so adorably admitted that he did not currently have a lover, and that there were no ex-lovers either. Which, if Victor had understood that right, meant that Yuuri was in fact a unicorn that had taken human form.

A 23-year-old professional male figure skater who was also a virgin.

It was starting to feel like Yuuri was put on this earth specifically to constantly surprise Victor and test his self-control.

With _Eros_ Victor would move one decisive step closer toward both his goals: Victor would firmly establish Yuuri on the path toward reinventing his image and realizing his true potential as a skater; and Victor would also finally find out if Yuuri was or was not, actually, asexual.

It had been weeks and weeks of naked baths and Victor flirting like a man possessed. By this time he had fully expected for him and Yuuri to already be moving on to the truly acrobatic sex. He had to know if Yuuri was just another kind of ‘late bloomer,’ in which case Victor will have to hang in there and trust that his charms would eventually reel Yuuri in, or if Yuuri was entirely uninterested in people _in that way_ , in which case Victor will have to abandon that objective and move forward with their relationship in a purely platonic direction.

The only sex that Victor believed in was the kind where both parties were wholly and enthusiastically invested in each other’s pleasure. When Yuuri finally came to his bed, Victor wanted him desperate.

But the problem would be to motivate Yuuri to give his all on Eros. If Victor simply assigned him the piece as _fait accompli_ Victor would be no better than all those past coaches, forcing him toperform without making him feel truly invested in the program.

What Victor needed was a catalyst. And to get that, he had had to shatter their little haven away from the world. He hadn’t been sure what the world was going to bring them, when he started actively tweeting from Hasetsu, but he thought that for it to have been Yuri—er, Yurio—was the best possible outcome.

A rival was exactly what Yuuri needed as it gave him the one thing Victor couldn’t as a coach: competition.

He should have known Yurio would go straight for the jugular, but the idea of an impromptu faceoff with Victor himself as the prize was so much fun that he couldn’t resist going along with it. And he certainly couldn’t argue with the results.

“With you… I want us to eat katsudon together,” Yuuri declared with a determination so pure it was virtually selfless. Victor couldn’t look away from him. “I’ll give it all the eros I’ve got!”

Reality rarely lived up to fantasy. But Victor had the feeling that the reality of Yuuri would far, far outshine any fantasy.

This, he thought for the first time, could be dangerous.

\--

Episode 3

Yuuri was not asexual. Thank _god_. In hindsight, Victor shouldn’t have been surprised that he would finally feel that telltale spark of attraction, of _want_ , from Yuuri while on the ice. It was as if Yuuri felt more grounded, more stable and comfortable in his skin, when balancing on two thin blades over a sheet of frozen water than when standing on solid ground. Unlike every other time before, he didn’t run away, skitter, or flinch when Victor invaded his personal space and touched him. Their faces had been so close Victor could feel Yuuri’s breath shiver in the air between them, and yet Yuuri’s skates never wavered. And his lips were so very soft.

While Victor had told Yuuri to discover ‘eros’ for himself, Victor already knew at that moment that he was definitely capable of it: Yuuri had trembled with such innocent, nascent desire that it removed any doubt at all. Though whether one week would be enough time for him to properly express that in a performance was another question entirely.

_Katsudon_ , of all things. Well, Victor supposed Yuuri had to start somewhere. He had a bit of a moment where he wondered if it was really fair of him to lust after and have designs on someone so wholly naïve and inexperienced… But then Victor remembered how delicious Yuuri had looked when his body had quivered with a tension that Victor was sure he didn’t quite yet understand, and there went all his good intentions flying out the window, never to be seen again.

He wondered what Yuuri would have done had they been alone, with no one to stop Victor from fulfilling the promise of those lips. If Yuuri had stayed perfectly still, eyes wide and unblinking, as Victor dipped his head and kissed him, nudging his lips apart for Victor’s tongue to gently lick inside his mouth. Would heat have instantly ignited between them, Yuuri grabbing at Victor’s sweatshirt with greedy fingers—

No. It would have been a slow burn instead: Yuuri trembling like a leaf in his arms and Victor supporting him, pulling his body flush against his. Yuuri’s hands fluttered between them, uncertain, while Victor’s slipped under his jacket and shirt to find smooth, warm skin.

“Victor!” Yuuri stammered, lips red and spit slick from Victor’s kisses.

“I’m just trying to help you find your eros,” Victor said, pushing off the ice and skating both of them toward the edge of the rink. “As your coach,” he continued earnestly, “it’s my responsibility to help you in any way I can.”

Yuuri squeaked as his back hit the boards and Victor crowded him against them, planting his skates on the ice and his arms on either side of him. “What is eros to you, Yuuri?” he whispered, moving his leg between Yuuri's. Yuuri gasped. “What makes your blood go hot and your mind go blank? When you lie down in your bed, who do you think of when you touch yourself?” Victor asked, mouthing along his jaw.

Yuuri whimpered.

“Come on. Shouldn’t I know everything about you? You can tell me,” Victor coaxed, voice low and purring. “Want me to help you out?”

“Wha—“ Yuuri yelped as Victor pressed one hand against the front of his pants. Victor felt him— already half hard—twitch obligingly. Victor kissed him, open mouthed and filthy, as he pushed his hand inside his pants. Yuuri shook, fingers clenching into Victor’s back as Victor wrapped a hand around his cock.

“Tell me,” Victor said as he began to jerk him off. “Tell me who you think about. Do you imagine them doing this to you? Touching you? Are they gentle? Rough? Tell me how you like it, Yuuri.”

“Victor,” Yuuri gasped. “Victor.”

“Hmm?”

“Y—you,” he confessed, hips stuttering now, clumsily moving in counterpoint to Victor’s hand. “I think about you.”

Yes, that’s right, Victor thought as he pumped his fist around his own cock, Yuuri would be so sweet, admitting that so desperately.

And when Victor came, it was to an image of Yuuri’s face coming prettily as he gasped out Victor’s name.

He sighed as he stared hazily up at the ceiling. He hadn’t had a chance to really indulge since Yurio arrived and took over the storage room attached to his bedroom, but he knew that both he and Yuuri were at the Ice Castle by now practicing. He hadn’t meant to oversleep, but he also didn’t get back in until past dawn.

Those old geezers could really drink, he thought fondly as he hauled himself out of bed.

-

Up until the moment Yuuri began his performance, Victor wasn’t sure who was going to win. On paper it seemed impossible that a 23-year-old ‘late bloomer’ in the middle of a massive career slump could outperform the current Junior World Champion. However Victor already knew that Yuuri was capable of achieving the impossible; the fact that Victor had uprooted his entire life to come to Japan for the sole purpose of coaching him was proof of that. Still, the outcome of the competition between him and Yurio was by no means decided one way or another, and Victor had played no favorites during their training.

They both had so much potential and talent that it would have been criminal for Victor to give them anything less than his best. Besides, coaching them together had been a lot of fun. So much fun, in fact, that he'd completely forgotten the whole point of the contest. And while Yurio gave Yuuri the incentive to really give it his all, the reverse was also true and Yurio was more diligent this past week than Victor had ever seen him. Consequently their drive and determination, their hunger to win, to get better, to meet Victor’s expectations, made them exceptional students. Also their faces when he’d ordered them to the waterfall had been absolutely hilarious.

And Victor did recognize that he owed Yurio at least this much. Promise or not, for the last year Yuri Plisetsky had borne the expectation of the entire Russian skating world as being Victor Nikiforov’s heir apparent. It was a weight that, for all his belligerent grumbling, he seemed proud to carry.

The program _Agape_ may be about unconditional love, but it was also Victor’s apology.

Because no matter how Onsen on Ice ended, Victor had no intention of letting Yuuri go.

This week—Victor’s first true week of actually being Yuuri’s coach and not just his personal trainer—had proven to him that he’d made the right decision in coming to Japan and securing Yuuri for his own.

That Yurio would be able to learn a high difficulty short program in seven days was a given: he had had the benefit of world class facilities, a top tier coach, and the perfect environment tonurture and mold his talent for years. Had Yurio not been able to perform it would have been a failure of massive proportions.

Yuuri, on the other hand, not only had _not_ had any of those things, but he also hadn’t spent any significant time on the rink in months and had come into the week barely meeting Victor’s weight requirement. He was also competing against someone eight years younger than him. In effect, Yuuri had been under an enormous handicap. And yet not once did he complain that the contest was unfair to him, or to ask Victor to lower the program’s difficulty. In fact, Victor suspected it never even crossed his mind.

It was one of the things that made Yuuri so admirable.

It also told Victor that Yuuri really did know that he was good enough to stand toe-to-toe against the top contenders. It was just as he said: all he lacked was confidence in himself to pull it off.

Unfortunately, this was not the competition for Victor to practice his confidence giving skills. His sense of fair play wouldn’t let him give Yuuri the words he so needed to hear, not when Victor hadn’t even sent Yurio out there with a ‘good luck.’ It sorely tested him too, to have Yuuri—on his own initiative—cling to Victor and finally _ask_ him for something. Yuuri had never, until that moment, behaved in any way selfish or demanding of him. But the most Victor could do was reassure him in a roundabout way… he hoped it was enough.

It was.

How could he have doubted, to have worried, to have forgotten that he _did_ uproot his life to coach Yuuri? Victor had seen beauty in him, when he performed _Stay Close to Me_ , and Victor could see it here again with Eros, the beginnings of it: a beauty so seductive it would leave him breathless.

In the span of hours Yuuri had discovered what his eros was, and then conveyed that feeling more capably than Yurio did his agape. Yuuri was truly amazing.

And now, Victor thought at the winner’s podium as he put his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder to lend him some of his strength, he could finally begin the journey he had come all the way to Japan for.

-

“Yuuri, are you actually crying while eating katsudon?” Minako teased later as they all crowded around the Yu-topia dining hall, enjoying the celebratory meal.

“Crying from happiness, right?” Nishigori laughed.

Victor smiled around his own mouthful as Yuuri flailed at his friends. Was it just him or was tonight’s katsudon more delicious than usual?

“It’s really great that you won, Yuuri,” Yuuko mused, “but what would you have done had Yurio won instead?”

Yuuri froze up like a rock but Victor only cheerfully said: “Oh I was never going to stop being Yuuri’s coach. If he’d lost, I simply would have brought him back to Russia with me!”

After a moment of total silence, the room exploded with noise.

“What?! Yuuri, you should have lost! You could have gone to Russia!”

“Eeehh?!”

“That’s right!” Axel, Loop, and Lutz said, wide eyed with realization. “Yurio only said that Victor had to go back to Russia and become his coach.” “Not that that he had to leave Yuuri behind!” “That’s sneaky!”

Victor smiled at Yuuri’s flabbergasted expression. “Did you think I was going to give you up so easily, Yuuri?” Ah, he really did adore Yuuri’s blushes.

But it was for the best that Yuuri did win; Russia would not have been the ideal place for Yuuri to train. For that, he needed to be here in Hasetsu just like this, surrounded by the family and friends who loved him so much.

\--

Episode 4

Victor has been a professional figure skater for well over a decade now, and that _meant_ things.

It meant that while it was true that ever since his record breaking senior debut he has been labeled as the man to beat, he _has_ been beaten. And although his career has achieved—and stayed at—a meteoric high for the last five years, since Yakov became his coach to be precise, he knew what it felt like to fall short of the gold.

It meant that he understood how to play the _game_ , not just the sport. How to armor himself with either aloofness or friendliness—whichever the situation called for—to remain unaffected by his competition and rise above them all.

And it meant that he knew the real fight for the Grand Prix Final isn’t going to begin in the fall with the first event, but has in fact already begun right here in the start of summer, with him staring at an empty rink after getting stood up by his student _yet again_.

He had thought that he'd made a breakthrough with Yuuri. Ever since Onsen on Ice Yuuri was more comfortable with him, and Victor was quickly spoiled by being able to touch him all he wanted—well, almost. Yuuri may have hugged him first, but from then on it was Victor who always closed the gap between them, indiscriminately touching him in instruction or affection or both. Victor thought he could see a slowly growing awareness in Yuuri, a difference in his blushes that felt more… adult somehow. More in line with where Victor needed them to be.

Where perhaps before Yuuri knew of ‘desire’ only in an academic sense, as a _concept_ and not a feeling, or as something that happened to other people but not to him, Victor thought now Yuuri was starting to see himself in the main role: of desiring someone and of being desired in turn.

Or maybe this was all wishful thinking in Victor’s part.

Self-awareness could be a real bother, sometimes.

Now he knew that what he thought of as a growing closeness between the two of them was just something shallow and limited. Physically they were closer than they’d ever been—though not as close as Victor wanted, of course—but it seemed that Yuuri was still keeping Victor out. Keeping himself locked away.

This was a very big problem because, Victor’s own selfish reasons aside, if Yuuri didn’t open up to him, it meant that Yuuri didn’t trust him. It meant that Victor wouldn’t be able to bring out his true talent on the ice.

Because Yuuri skates with his heart.

Yuuri’s body was like a mirror: it reflected everything he felt. _Eros_ proved that. _Stay Close to Me_ proved that. Every competition where Yuuri stumbled proved that. Whether it’s nervousness, or fear, or eros, or…

Yuuri, knowingly or not, bared his heart to the world when he performed. It’s what drew Victor to him from the moment Victor first became aware of it, but it’s also what kept him from becoming the best figure skater that he could be. If Victor was to unlock his true potential, Yuuri had to let him in.

It was frustrating to be pushed away, to see that talent, that brilliance, just a bit out of reach because Yuuri kept himself so guarded.

because Yuuri kept himself so guarded.

For a moment Victor felt an incredible kinship with Yuuri’s ex-coaches.

What’s worse, Victor wasn’t quite sure how to solve this. Until now, his face and his fame had made it very easy to get people to open up to him. Even the smallest hint of an interest from Victor Nikiforov made people fall over themselves to get close, to overshare and show themselves off in the hopes of securing him.

He didn’t know if he would be able to find the right words to say to Yuuri to let him in.

But thankfully Victor didn’t really have a negative bone in his body and his natural optimism asserted itself on his way back to Yu-topia. As he heard the seagulls calling in the distance, he thought perhaps it would be a good idea to go to the seashore. He and his adorable, wayward student will have their talk there.

He’ll let his instincts lead him where they will. That’s always worked for him before.

-

So, he was in love.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have known. He wasn’t sure when or where it began, only that he gently, gently became aware of it while he sat beside Yuuri and listened to his soft, small voice express a delicate vulnerability that Victor himself had never felt. It made his heart squeeze with an almost painful warmth and as he looked out into the sea he thought: _Ah, I love this person._

I will do everything I can for him.

I will be what he needs me to be.

I will show him my love in the only way he can understand.

I will wait for him to love me back.

Victor had never been afraid of love, and he’s had lovers before. But this feeling he had for Yuuri, it surprised him. He’d felt infatuation in the past, and passion, and yes, at the time what he thought of as love. But what he felt before seemed so shallow, so pale, compared to what he felt now for Yuuri.

When did it start? When did he start falling in love with Yuuri?

Well, Victor supposed it didn’t matter. And truly, he didn’t care when or how or why it began. All he knew now was that he _was_ in love and as he has never in all his life denied his heart anything, he embraced the feeling entirely.

Victor Nikiforov loved Yuuri Katsuki. Was _in love_ with him.

Soon, Victor knew the whole world will know it. Yuuri’s programs—the programs Victor made for him—will make sure of it.

-

“ _Tell me_ when your feet are hurting this much,” Victor scolded as he put ointment on Yuuri’s bruised and blistering feet. They were in his room, with Yuuri lying in his bed and Maccachin a warm furry weight beside him.

“I really didn’t notice it until I took off my skates,” Yuuri said, voice contrite. Victor had been so aghast at the state of Yuuri’s feet that he’d called a taxi to take the two of them home at once, even though it was still in the middle of the day. “Victor, you know this is normal for us.”

“Yes, and Yakov got mad at me when I let this happen to my feet, too,” Victor replied as he fussed with Yuuri's poor feet. “As your coach, I’m ordering you to stay in bed for the rest of the day, and you’re taking tomorrow off.”

“What?! But—“

“Getting the proper amount of rest is an important part of training,” Victor reminded him. “Let your body heal. We can’t risk you getting injured so close to the start of the season.”

Yuuri sighed. “Okay.” Then he yawned, snuggling into Maccachin and closing his eyes, seemingly so exhausted that he’d forgotten he wasn’t in his own bed. Victor smiled fondly. Finally he’d gotten Yuuri in his bed, though not in the way he’d envisioned it.

Still, it was a very cute picture, Victor happily thought as he brought out his phone and made it his lock screen.

“Make sure Yuuri gets some rest, okay, Maccachin?” he told his dog softly as he quietly left the room.

The summer sun was still high in the sky when he arrived at the Ice Castle, and Yuuko looked up with surprise from behind the counter. “Victor! What are you doing back here? I thought you took Yuuri home.”

“I did, but it’s early so I decided to come back on my own. Is the rink still free?” Victor asked.

“It is,” Yuuko confirmed. “Getting some time in on your own? You’re a coach but I guess you’re still a figure skater first, huh,” she said, friendly and familiar. She’d stopped being so star struck of him about a couple of months ago.

Victor smiled. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not! Go right ahead,” she said, waving him off with a laugh.

Victor stepped on the ice as the first strains of _Agape_ filled the air. He went through the program perfunctorily, focused but not serious although he didn’t skip the jumps; he was only using the piece to warm up. It was just as he thought: _Agape_ was too innocent and joyfully selfless for what he needed.

He got in position as the track finished, breathing in deep. He thought of Yuuri in the brief quiet and pulled his love—newly discovered but so very deep in spite of it—into himself. As the familiar notes of _Stay Close to Me_ broke the silence, he began.

There were no lights, no cameras, no cheering crowds. He wasn’t wearing a glittering costume and he hadn’t performed this program in months. And yet.

And yet.

As his body moved, muscle memory taking over, he could feel that this performance was already different from every rendition that had come before, as if all of them had only been insipid, selfaggrandizing shadows of _this_.

Because what did he know of love before now? What did he understand of the pain, the bittersweet joy, that came from the helplessness of knowing your heart was no longer your own?

He had always been a selfish creature, often forgetful and thoughtless of even the important things.

But now he knew. As he leapt into the air, he thought of the giddy happiness he felt when Yuuri teased him, how he hammed it up just so he could laugh and blush some more as he pressed his face into the ice. As he spun, he remembered how Yuuri looked when he lost his temper, and how he looked when he finally, finally let Victor in. And as he moved across the ice, he thought _what if_.

_What if Yuuri never loved me back?_

That bright flash of pain fueled the rest of his performance, and he leapt higher, spun tighter, than he ever had before. And in the end, there were no grand flourishes, and he didn’t cross his arms as though in pride. There was no room for pride here; he ended the program simply with his arms loose at his sides and his eyes closed as he tipped his face to the sky: open, vulnerable, and in love.

And as his chest heaved and his breaths came out in panting gasps he realized that here, in this unknown skating rink in a quiet seaside town in Japan, to an audience of none, he had just finished what was likely the best performance of his career.

“Oh!”

Victor’s eyes flew open, startled to see Yuuko staring at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, that was beautiful,” she said, voice hiccupping.

Victor was silent for a long time, then said, could only say, "Thank you."

Then the doors slammed open and the triplets streamed through, babbling and boisterous.

“It’s Victor!” “But where’s Yuuri?” “Hey Ma, why are you crying?”

Later, as he packed his skates and Yuuko worked behind the counter while her daughters were completely engrossed with her phone, she said, conversationally, “You know we all wondered, in the beginning, why you chose to do this. Chose to coach Yuuri-kun.” Victor frowned, but a glance told him she wasn’t even looking at him, was instead writing something in a ledger. “But I also wondered how,” she continued. “How someone could decide to move almost halfway around the world, leave everything and everyone behind on a whim. I thought to myself, wow, that’s so amazing! That’s so brave! I didn’t think that it was also a little bit sad. I always,” she rushed on, as if she knew she’d overstepped, “watched all of Yuuri-kun’s competitions. And every time I saw that it was in this incredible, foreign place, or when I thought of him studying and training all those years in Detroit, I would sometimes feel… wistful.”

Victor blinked, remembering with sudden clarity that the triplets were six years old, and Yuuko was twenty-five.

“But I think, after knowing Yuuri-kun for so long, that maybe he’s more like me,” she said gently as she watched her daughters. “Maybe he also flies higher when there’s someone to anchor him.” She smiled at him. “He’s just a bit dense, you know? But I’m sure he’ll figure it out soon.”

Victor looked at her and thought, not for the first time, how lucky Yuuri was to be surrounded by such people. “Thank you,” he said, smiling as he felt a weight lift away.

“You’re welcome,” Yuuko said, grinning. “I’m really looking forward to see Yuuri-kun this

season. I’m sure he will be amazing.”

“Yes,” Victor agreed easily as he left to go home, “he will be.”


End file.
